


something just like this

by memorysdaughter



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hospitals, Injury Recovery, Late Night Conversations, Post 3x14, Post-Canon, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 19:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13933704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorysdaughter/pseuds/memorysdaughter
Summary: Tasha spends the night at the hospital with Patterson.  Confessions and cherries.Post 3x14.





	something just like this

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so, this invalidates Tasha's whole arc in 3x14, but after seeing the scene of these two in the hospital bed at the end of the episode I wanted more of that.
> 
> Intended as a one-shot, but the world is big and nothing's set in stone.
> 
> Over the course of nine months I spent a lot of evenings and nights in a hospital with someone I loved, and the energy and aura of the place is absolutely different than during the day. Don't know if I accurately captured that, but I gave it a try.
> 
> Title's from the song with the same name by Coldplay and The Chainsmokers.

“Her doctor told her she can go home tomorrow,” Weller says softly to Tasha as they stand outside Patterson’s hospital room. “Are you sure you don’t mind staying one last night?”

“It’s fine,” Tasha says. “Really.”

Over the past week and a half while Patterson’s been recovering, Tasha’s spent most of the nights with her, and she’s come to almost enjoy the energy of the hospital, especially at night when things are muted and almost ephemeral.  Shoes on the tile floor seem softer, time drips the way fluids and medicine do through Patterson’s IVs, and there’s something nearly  _ cradling _ about the womb-like quiet of the hospital room around the two of them.  Just the two of them.

“Okay,” Weller says. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Will you ask Jane to bring her some clothes to wear home?” Tasha asks. “Something loose. And her tennis shoes.”

She reaches into her jacket pocket and takes out Patterson’s spare apartment key, hooked to a stretchy purple cord, and hands it to him.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Weller says, taking the key. “See you around ten?”

“Sounds good.” Tasha smiles and then opens the door, letting herself into the room.

Patterson is asleep, curled up on the bed with the thin hospital blanket pulled up over her.  Tasha closes the door quietly behind her and crosses the room to the chair next to the bed. She’s not sure when Patterson started looking so fragile, but she does know it hurts her heart every time she considers it.  She’s having a hard time forgetting the events that led her to be here, in this hospital, sitting at the bedside of her grievously-injured friend.

Tasha sits down and pulls her knees up to her chest.  She wants to get in bed with Patterson and remind herself that Patterson’s still here; to hear Patterson’s heartbeat and let it resonate it through her own body until they’re in sync, at least for a few breaths or so.  She wants to breathe in Patterson’s scent, which lately is something more antiseptic and less cherries-and-vanilla (her usual), but again, it’s enough to remind her that Patterson’s firmly in the land of the living.

There’s movement from the bed and she looks up.  Patterson’s eyes flicker open and she looks sleepily at Tasha.

“Hi,” Tasha says, unfolding herself and getting up, coming closer.

Patterson’s expression is softened and bleary, and Tasha knows there was a generous dose of painkillers and maybe some anti-anxiety meds providing that kind of ease.  The nights tended to be the most stressful for Patterson, and her nurses were doing all they could to help her get restful sleep. “Hi,” Patterson says, and gives Tasha a slow smile.

“How are you doing?”

“‘M tired,” Patterson says, and sighs, her eyes drooping closed for a few seconds.  Then she opens them again. “I get… to go home… tomorrow.”

“I know,” Tasha says, and she gives into the urge wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl, sliding Patterson over in the hospital bed and laying down next to her. “That’s good news, huh?”

“Yeah.” Patterson rolls toward Tasha, curling in, so close that Tasha can count the tiny freckles on her face and see the thin veins in her eyelids.  There’s a hint of cherries, but it’s mostly the hospital smell Tasha breathes in; she doesn’t care.

Patterson seems to be dozing, but after a few minutes she says, “Tasha?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you… will you stay?”

“Tonight?  You know I will.”

“No.  Tomorrow.”

Tasha hesitates. “If you want me to.”

“Yeah.  I don’t… wanna be… alone.” Patterson goes quiet.

Tasha pulls up the blanket over Patterson’s shoulders, trying to carefully avoid all of the IV lines and the little thin wires running out from under the blue hospital gown, the ones tracking Patterson’s vitals.  She gently strokes Patterson’s head. “Patterson?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re… you’re really good.  I hope you know that.”

“Mmm.”

“Like, pretty… and smart… and you keep saving all of us, no matter what.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Sometimes I think we don’t ever tell you how absolutely kickass you are.  Nobody gives you enough credit for the stuff you do… and nobody really ever asks you how you are.” Tasha pauses, somehow awed by the words that came out of her mouth.  They were true, she knew they were, but it was the first time she’d ever expressed the thought. Patterson’s life over the past few years had been full of heartbreak and pain, and yet they’d all treated her like nothing was different.  Tasha’d been guilty of it too, nudging her back into the dating world and never really talking with her about the circumstances that led Patterson to be skittish and uncertain. “Maybe we should just listen. Not that you talk too much about stuff…”

“Hmm.”

“You know we all love you, right?  And that you can tell us anything?”

Patterson doesn’t respond, her breathing soft and regular.  Tasha looks up at the monitors and watches as Patterson’s heart rate lowers, still steady and strong.  She readjusts her position slightly and closes her own eyes.

She’s lulled into a dreamy sense of security by the beeping monitors and Patterson’s breathing and the close cradle of the room around them, so it could be two minutes or two hours later when she hears Patterson’s voice again. “Tasha… y’ know I love you… right?”

Tasha opens her eyes.  Patterson’s eyes are still closed and she hasn’t moved, leading Tasha to wonder if she’d dreamed it.  Then Patterson says, “You’re one… of my very favorites.”

“Just one of them?” Tasha asks, amused.

The same soft smile appears on Patterson’s face. “Mm-hmm.”

Tasha kisses Patterson on the cheek. “How interesting.  It turns out you’re one of my very favorites, too.”

She links their hands together and pulls the blanket over Patterson again.

“Tasha.”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me… you’re not going to leave.”

“I promise,” Tasha tells her as Patterson snuggles closer. “You’re safe with me.”

She’s not sure if it’s possible or not, but she gets a sudden whiff of cherries and it flows over her like a balm.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr as memorysdaughter.


End file.
